The Excessive Shooting
by bemj11
Summary: Another early case involving Holmes, Scotland Yard, and Inspector Tobias Gregson
1. Chapter 1

It was with some annoyance that I looked up to see my landlady escort a rather uncomfortable Inspector Lestrade into my rooms.

He thanked her, as usual; it did little to improve her opinion of him, and I wondered why he bothered. My landlady disliked me and anyone associated with me, and there was little the Inspector could do to change that.

He cleared his throat as the landlady departed, and managed to look even more uncomfortable than he had coming in.

"I take it you have found yourself again in need of assistance?" I inquired, and he nodded.

"I can't offer you any more than last time." He admitted, his face threatening to turn bright red. "But a man's been murdered. Shot."

I supposed it was only polite to let him explain himself before I sent him away, and there was always the chance that the case might have other compensations for my time.

"He was cheating on his wife." The Inspector explained. "We've located his mistress and plan to question her."

If that was it, the case wasn't even worth my time, and I told Lestrade as much in no uncertain terms.

The man's dark eyes flashed. Then he nodded. "Well, thank you for your time anyways, Mr. Holmes. If you'll excuse me." He saw himself out, and I went back to perusing the paper.

There was an article about the shooting. Lestrade had not told me everything.

The murdered man had been shot a total of twelve times. The police were indeed planning on questioning the murdered man's mistress.

I knew of the woman in question, and something of her _husband_ as well. He was the jealous type, the sort of man that did not take kindly to _anyone_ being caught anywhere near his wife, and not entirely right in his mind either.

He had been the shooter. Of that I had no doubt. It would only have been a matter of time until he learned his wife was seeing someone, and he would be quick to take care of the offender.

I was up and out of my chair as another thought occurred to me.

The woman's husband would not tolerate _any_ man so much as speaking to his wife after this incident, and if Lestrade were going to speak with her, he was putting himself in a rather dangerous position.

I hoped, as I left my rooms, that I would be able to find the Inspector before it was too late.

* * *

Disclaimer: Sherlock Holmes and the boys do not belong to me.


	2. Chapter 2

I received cold looks but not much else at the Yard. No one seemed inclined to so much as speak with me.

Finally I managed to attract the attention of fair haired Inspector Gregson, who eyed me curiously. I knew of the Inspector, but had not had dealings with him before.

"Did Lestrade invite you down here again?" He wanted to know. "Because I wouldn't have thought even he was that stubborn, or thick headed, not after that last tongue-lashing the Superintendent gave him."

I frowned. Apparently I was less welcome down here than I had believed, but then Lestrade _had_ made comments to that end during our last case together.

Gregson looked around quickly before ushering me into his office. "You're Sherlock Holmes, right?" He asked. "And I'd guess that Lestrade hasn't mentioned that he's currently out of favor with the Superintendent for insisting on 'encouraging you,' as he puts it." Gregson grumbled. "Did he actually manage to pay you anything for that last case?" He was curious now.

I didn't have time for this. "Where _is _Lestrade?" I asked, ignoring both the question, and the implications that went with it.

Gregson considered me for a moment. "Did he ask you about the shooting?" He finally asked.

I nodded. "I sent him away, but there have been some new developments. It is imperative that I find him, and quickly."

The Inspector hesitated only for a second. "He left to question the mistress of the murdered man. He must have stopped to see you on his way there."

I scowled. "He is in danger, then." I informed Gregson. "I know something of the woman in question, and _her husband_."

"Her husband?" Gregson whistled.

"He found out." I said. "The man has always been insanely jealous of his wife."

Gregson blanched. "And Lestrade went to talk to _her-_ Come on!" He was out of his office and darting down the hall in a flash, and I wasn't far behind.

* * *

Disclaimer: Sherlock and the boys at the Yard do not belong to me.


	3. Chapter 3

It was fortunate for Inspector Lestrade that Gregson had no qualms whatsoever about kicking open the front door of the murderer and his wife's house.

They were in the sitting room, all three of them. The sitting room was a wreck.

The wife was unconscious in the floor, a bloody gash in her forehead.

The husband had been trying to knock Lestrade's skull in with the poker from the fire. The end of said poker was currently in the wall, and the husband had recently given up on that idea and grabbed Lestrade by the throat and slammed him against the wall. The Inspector was currently pinned to said wall and turning purple as he struggled against the larger man.

"I suggest you put him down." Gregson called out coolly as he knelt and picked up Lestrade's discarded revolver. He leveled it at the husband.

The husband dropped Lestrade, who crumpled to the ground, gasping for breath, and decided to try to run. Gregson calmly fired a shot that clipped his arm, and the man froze.

The Inspector wasted little time in cuffing him. Then he shoved him onto the couch. "Sit down." He ordered. "And if you so much as move a muscle, I'll shoot you and not think twice about it. See if Lestrade's still alive, will you Holmes?" This last was directed at me, as Gregson turned his attention to the lady.

Lestrade was staggering to his feet. "I'm fine." He panted. He winced, and his hand went to the opposite shoulder. "Thanks to you two. What are you doing here?"

"Saving your life, arresting your murderer, doing your job." Gregson retorted. "What happened to the wife?"

"He backhanded her. She fell and hit her head." Lestrade replied. "How did you know to come here?"

"I didn't. Your amateur detective did." Gregson shot back. "I don't know how _he_ knew."

Lestrade turned to me. "What changed your mind, Mr. Holmes?" He wanted to know.

"I found the article in the paper after you left." I told him.

Gregson blinked and looked up at me. "You figured out who the murderer was and that Lestrade's life was in danger _from the report in the paper_?" He demanded.

Lestrade rolled his eyes. "I don't insist on asking the man for help because it makes me look good." He snapped.

Gregson shot the other Inspector a look. "Superintendent's an idiot, then. Not to want to involve him."

"You think?" Lestrade sneered. "Go take your arrest in, I'll make sure the wife's alright. I don't want to have to spend any more time around the lout than I have to."

Gregson growled. "What about Holmes?"

"Leave him here. You don't want the Superintendent to see him wandering about the Yard, do you?" Lestrade retorted quickly.

Gregson sighed. "He saved your life, Lestrade."

"Yes, and he's identified a murderer, a jewel thief, and stopped that fellow that was kidnapping and murdering young girls as well, and I'm not supposed to 'encourage' him. Never mind that he succeeded where the Yard had failed." Lestrade was glowering as he and Gregson roused the woman. "Take him with you if you want, or don't, but get that lunatic away from me."

Gregson smiled at me, amused by the outburst. "Come on then, Holmes. And you." He informed the husband darkly. Then he turned back to Lestrade. "Did you pay him last time?"

Lestrade turned red and pretended not to have heard. Gregson looked satisfied.

"I'll cover it this time." He offered as he led us out the door.

"Cover it?" I asked.

"Your fee." Gregson replied shortly, as if I should already know. "How much did he pay you last time? Not much, I'd wager. The man has a family to worry about."

I felt slow. Stupid. Was Gregson actually suggesting…?

Gregson groaned. "Do you want me to spell it out for you?" He asked impatiently. "Lestrade is not about to let some girl die or a murderer escape on account of the Superintendent's stupidity. He's also not going to expect you to help us for nothing. He _also_ has a wife and children at home, so he can't afford to pay you the regular fee out of his own pocket." He eyed me doubtfully. "I thought you were supposed to be a genius."

He reached into his pocket. "Here. I can't really afford to give you the regular fee either, but we don't expect you to work for free." He shoved the money into my hand and left me gaping after him in front of the house.

* * *

Disclaimer: Sherlock and the boys at the Yard do not belong to me.


End file.
